


Thank you.

by itsnotlove



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: ):, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt, M/M, Murder, Sad Ending, Smut...ish, nothing good happens here, sad sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: Even if she didn't ask for it, this is what Celty wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hushitisme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hushitisme/gifts).



Even as Izaya slowly pushed himself inside of him, Shinra didn’t feel much.  It wasn’t that Izaya was particularly small- no, his erection had been larger than he’d anticipation- but that Shinra didn’t feel all that different.

He’d offered to bend over the desk, and had laughed away his surprise when Izaya had opted to led him to the bedroom and lay him down on his bed. They hadn’t spoken much, not after Shinra’s offer to bed him. It was silent, save for Izaya’s shaky breaths, but that seemed somewhat fitting.

There was a small pinch inside Shinra as he tried to relax himself. The small kiss that Izaya planted on his shoulder didn’t do anything to aid in that, but it didn’t do anything to deter it, either. No, the only effect it seemed to have on Shinra was that it made a sad sort of laughter spill out from his lips. Not that Izaya would know it sounded sad.

“Orihara-kun, are you going t-”

“Please-” Izaya’s body shook and his voice was barely above a whisper. Even so, the tremor it was laced with was easy to hear. “-don’t call me that.”

Shinra’s arms had remained by his side as Izaya had prepared him, and even as he’d pushed into him. It was a conscious thing, really, as he hadn’t wanted to actually touch Izaya any more than necessary. But now… well, now it was necessary, wasn’t it?

The fingertips of one hand brushed against Izaya’s forearm, reading the the goosebumps as if they were Braille. How strange it was that Izaya could be so warm and still shiver, and that Celty could be so cool and not. “Izaya, are you going to move?”

The words had barely left Shinra’s mouth before Izaya started to move. Whether it was hearing his name- _his actual name_ \- spoken for the first time by someone who’d refused to say it for years, or because he’d known what Shinra was going to ask, was up for debate. But he moved, slowly and carefully, as if he were afraid of breaking the man beneath him.

Despite what Shinra had thought, it _did_ feel good. Strange, yes, but the feeling of Izaya being buried so deeply within him, of him moving and twitching inside him… he couldn’t deny that it reached something he’d never known existed.

Izaya kept his face pressed into Shinra’s neck, the hotness of his pants condensing on the pale skin. Though Shinra couldn’t see it, he could feel Izaya’s lips pressing against him and could sense how hard it was for him to keep them closed.

The thrusts began to speed up, delving deeper and deeper inside of him. They were strong, not unlike Izaya, and dragged out shallow breaths and gasps from Shinra’s throat. It felt good, _too good_ , and the smallest amount of guilt twinged at Shinra’s heart.

What a foreign feeling it was. It was almost nostalgic, given how rarely he’d feel anything, and it made him question himself for a moment. Celty hadn’t asked for this, but this was the best way to protect her. She’d never ask for it outright, but… if she didn’t want this, why say it at all? Surely she knew that telling Shinra that she wished Izaya would disappear would have this result?

The strange logic erased any guilt Shinra felt, but did nothing to squash the sick feeling that bubbled in his lower stomach. This shouldn’t be arousing, especially since Izaya hadn’t touched him, and yet he found himself thrusting his hips against Izaya’s.

One hand gripped at Izaya’s back as the other stayed by his side, the nails digging into the soft skin. Izaya began to move more desperately, as if he sensed something was amiss, and snaked a hand between them. Clumsily, he stroked Shinra’s erection, pulling at it as best he could whilst still attempting to keep their chests pinned against each other.

The soft sounds that had leaked out of Shinra’s mouth became steadily louder, growing in volume until they were almost a dull roar. His eyes were open, trained on Izaya’s hair, and he could feel himself getting closer and closer and-

“ _Izaya!_ ” He came hard, his semen splattering against Izaya’s hand and stomach as the latter still attempted to milk more out of him. It wasn’t until he was almost in tears that Izaya stopped, slowing himself down in uncertainty.

“Izaya-kun,” Shinra’s breathing slowed slightly, giving him the ability to speak. The hand by his side gripped the glass tube tightly, and he rolled his hips lazily against Izaya’s. “I’ve never been kissed.”

Izaya laughed quietly, and moved his head away from Shinra’s shoulder. His eyes were wet, though that might have just been the way he dealt with arousal. “You’re so transparent, Shinra.”

He leaned down and hesitantly pressed their lips together. It was chaste and unsure, as though Izaya thought that Shinra might reject him, but soon grew to be more passionate. Izaya’s arms moved, hooking under Shinra’s legs and pulling them up, before he crashed himself into him with more force.

Their lips didn’t part, even as Izaya groaned into Shinra’s mouth. He moved more fervently, as if he thought this were the last thing he’d ever do. Finally, his body stiffened and he broke the kiss, choosing to rest his forehead against Shinra’s instead.

“Thank you, Shinra..”

The needle slid into Izaya’s skin just as he finished, though Shinra wasn’t sure he noticed. Surely, if he’d known that Shinra had injected him with enough to kill, he wouldn’t be mumbling those words over and over. He wouldn’t be kissing every inch of flesh his lips could find…

After a minute, Izaya’s body stopped moving. He stopped mumbling his gratitude, stopped brushing his nose against Shinra’s cheek as his lips pressed against his skin.

Izaya stopped.

And Shinra wished he hadn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> ):


End file.
